All Apart Together
We are all in one room
Morey is playing a violent video game
because there are blood splatters on the screen
every time I look at his I-pad.
My husband is sitting behind me watching
a movie on a laptop. Both he and Morey are wearing
headphones because I have dog ears.
I am trying to figure out if there is any way possible
to write six poems tonight or six short stories, ,six
limericks, six something. I pick up both I-pads.
One to write, and one to look up spellings for
I am not good at spelling.
We remain in the same room for a couple of hours.
without conversation unless you count the
multitude of “thank you grandmas”
when I brought Morey food in the form of
eight pieces of ham, six strips of well-done bacon,
and one “thank you grandpa” when grandpa fixed
Morey a pepperoni pizza at 10:30 because he was still hungry.
I am usually more social than this but
today I spent six hours with a bossy take charge
four-year-old, so frankly there is not one drop of energy
left right now.
I sit here gratefully,
not talking to anyone, each of us in our own
fantastical electronic world. Each one of us living
a life the others know nothing about. I think my husband is
a police detective solving crimes tonight, but I do not go
back to peek at his laptop. Seeing Morey’s bloody screen
is more than enough.
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